‘So, what time do you want me then?’ Emma asked.

Grace recalled Annabel’s excitement, and considered how contented Millie appeared to be with Emma. She reminded herself how long it had been since she’d had a night out, and made her decision. ‘About seven, if you’re sure.’

‘Grace – relax, it’s absolutely fine,’ Emma insisted. ‘Now, you must stay for a cup of tea and tell me what you’ve been up to since I last saw you. I gather you’ve been busy, what with all the banging this week?’

‘Oh no, I hope the noise hasn’t been bothering you …’ Grace said contritely. ‘I’ve had the wall knocked down between the kitchen and the lounge – I’m trying to make it a bit less poky downstairs.’

‘Don’t worry about the noise, it hasn’t been bad,’ Emma reassured her. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve done. I’m sorry I haven’t invited you round sooner – I’ve been so busy with the kids and getting ready for Christmas. I hope you haven’t been lonely?’

Grace shook her head. ‘I’m fine. Annabel’s staying till after Christmas now, and I’ve had a couple of meals at Meredith’s.’

‘Really?’ Emma looked intrigued as she handed Millie back to Grace and went to pour the tea. ‘How did that come about?’

‘She invited me.’

‘Well, I’m amazed. We’ve lived here for five years and we’ve never been invited over once, let alone twice. What did you do to deserve Meredith Blakeney’s hospitality?’

‘I think it might have been because she’s interested in renting the cottage,’ Grace admitted.

‘Is that right?’ Emma put two mugs on the table, along with a carton of milk and a pot of sugar. ‘What would Meredith want with your little cottage when she fancies herself the lady of the manor in that big old house up there?’

Grace didn’t know how to reply, since she was asking herself the same question.

Emma mulled it over, then she sat back. ‘Don’t be bullied by that family, Grace.’

‘Why do you say that?’ Grace asked uneasily as she poured milk into her tea.

‘Oh, I’ve heard a few rumours … they sound like a mixed-up lot.’

‘Really? What have you heard?’

Emma shook her head. ‘Perhaps that’s a bit unfair of me. They’ve been through a hard time lately, what with Ted passing away like he did …’

But Grace was too curious to let it go. ‘Still, is there anything I should be aware of?’

Emma took a sip of her tea. ‘Oh, I don’t have that much to tell. I only know Meredith in passing, but I’ve caught a bit of gossip about her – usually people saying that she interferes with her daughters’ lives too much. She’s caused some mighty spats between her children, so I’m told, and one of her son-in-laws, Dan, seems to dislike her intensely – often bad-mouths her if you come across him in any of the local pubs. Mind you, he’s not exactly a saint – he used to be a policeman but there was a big scandal last year, something to do with him turning a blind eye to a mate dealing drugs. He got kicked out of the force, and apparently it was Meredith who found him another job in Leeds, something to do with security. Just as well since his wife’s expecting a little’un shortly. From what I gather, if Meredith’s daughters have a problem they run straight to their mother and she sorts it out for them. You know that one of them is staying there right now …’

‘Yes,’ Grace said. ‘I’ve met her. Claire – she seems really nice. Says it’s just a stopgap.’

Emma looked surprised, then chuckled. ‘Grace, you probably know more about them than I do. Now, tell me what you’ve got planned for the rest of your cottage …’

Grace began to fill Emma in on the renovations. After a while, Emma noticed that Grace’s mug was empty. ‘Another cuppa?’

Grace checked her watch. ‘I’d better not. I should be getting back. Annabel will be waiting for us.’

Grace began to get up, and Emma went across to the kitchen top, returning with a tupperware box full of cupcakes. ‘Here, take these. I always make far too many.’

Millie snatched the box gleefully before Grace could say anything, and they laughed.

‘Thank you,’ Grace said, following Emma along the hallway. ‘Now … are you sure …’

‘Grace! Go and have some fun. Millie will be fine with me.’

‘Well, I owe you one.’ As Grace started down the path, she glanced to her right, to see next door’s chimney puffing away. Emma stood on the step behind her and followed her gaze.

‘Have you met Jack yet?’

Grace shook her head.

‘You’ll be lucky if you do. We hardly ever see him. His chimney goes almost twenty-four hours but he never switches his lights on. You only come across him when he’s feeding his birds.’

Something clicked in Grace’s mind. ‘Oh – is that where the noise is coming from? I’ve heard a few screeches, it’s pretty unnerving at night.’

‘Thought the spirits were out, did you? No, it’s just the owls next door. Jack’s obsessed with them – people round here call him Feathery Jack. I think he’s got two at the moment, though he’s had up to half a dozen. Not just owls either, he takes everything from kestrels to crows. We only know this because sometimes the birds are out in the front garden when you go past. Carl says he’s meant to have licences for them, but it looks like he’s tending injured ones back to health, so no one’s going to report him.’

‘I haven’t seen him or the birds.’ Grace surveyed the cottage with its smoking chimney. In London her neighbours had included two accountants and an aspiring model. How times had changed.

‘Don’t worry, he’s harmless enough,’ Emma reassured her.

Grace turned and smiled. ‘Thanks again, Emma. I’ll see you soon.’ Then she headed home. So the screeches were from owls that lived two doors away. There had been no need for all the anxiety about unknown noises. She had to stop worrying about everything and loosen up a bit. It was nearly Christmas. She was making progress. There was no reason to feel as apprehensive as she did.

‘What an incredible afternoon,’ Annabel said, coming into the lounge and flinging herself onto a chair. She ran her fingers through her damp hair. ‘It’s snowing,’ she explained as she noticed Grace glaring at her. ‘Ben says it’s meant to get bad after Christmas – we might be stranded,’ she added, sounding absolutely fine about that.

Grace could barely resist the urge to run over and pull her sister’s hair, as she would have done when they were younger. In the past three days, she had barely seen Annabel. While Grace had put on old clothes and begun sorting through the cupboards and drawers, listening to endless crappy Christmas music blaring from the radio and wishing away the time, Annabel had been out every day. First of all she’d gone to Leeds to ‘finish my Christmas shopping’, returning with copious Harvey Nichols bags in the boot of her car. Next, Ben had fulfilled his promise and taken her roving over the moors; then yesterday evening Annabel had announced that they were going out again. Grace was still feeling slightly disgruntled that neither of them had thought to invite her and Millie.

Annabel began to waffle on about their visit to Whitby, saying she was still full of their famous fish and chips, and describing a severed hand that Ben had shown her in the local museum. ‘It’s called the Hand of Glory,’ she said, ‘though it’s more gory than glory. It’s an actual hand that’s been pickled to preserve it – and there are all sorts of legends around it to do with paralysing people or sending them to sleep. It’s pretty grim.’

Grace decided never to go near that museum if she could help it, while Annabel continued talking. ‘This place is fascinating, you know. All over the moors there are these tall stone crosses with different names, like Fat Betty and Old Ralph. I thought they were gravestones at first, but apparently there are different reasons for them – memorials, religious crosses and way markers – in many cases I don’t think it’s even known for certain. And we went to this little pub in the middle of nowhere with a “ghost chair” in the corner – it’s cursed, supposedly, so that anyone who sits in it will die soon afterwards.’